


The Unknown Warrior

by Eoraptor



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Community: Kim Possible Slash Haven, Gen, Humor, Mystery, Oneshot, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 18:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11904051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eoraptor/pseuds/Eoraptor
Summary: Most people go through an angsty phase... Not everyone has it published for the world to see, at least not before Facebook anyway.





	The Unknown Warrior

**Author's Note:**

> Rated as T for Teen. Kim Possible and related characters © 2002-2007 Walt Disney Animation. This work is not for profit and I claim no ownership except of the concept.

“Wade! Someone broke into my computer!” Kim bellowed and thrust her hands at her sides, trying to get her point across as frustration seethed through her.  
  
“I know Kim,” the chubby thirteen year old hacker reported, “But it was a run of the mill Trojan horse, probably from some poisoned ad on Face Space. All I can find copied is a few Wordy documents. Unless you had your debit cards in any of them, I don’t think it’s much to worry about.”  
  
Kim glared at the screen and wanted to howl. After a long moment of clenching her fists, she grumbled. “Fine, print me a list of what was taken and clean the computer. I’ve got to get to class.”  
  
“Done and done,” Wade frowned, wishing he could calm his friend down. Really, it was nothing to worry about.  
  
“Grah!” She screamed quietly as she looked at the list buzzing out of the old dot matrix printer in her locker, “They stole my Bio homework!”  
  
“Not stole, copi-,” Wade’s reassurance was cut off when the locker door was slammed in his face.   
  
By the end of the day, Kim was fairly more calm. Most of the files she looked at, aside from her Human Biology homework, were way old ones. In fact several she didn’t even remember what was in them. She knew, like Wade said, that none of them had any kind of personally identifiable info like her bank accounts. But it still stung like the dickens.  
  
By the end of the week, Homecoming Week, it was mostly forgotten. Wade never brought it up again, aside from to install some kind of ad blocking programs on her locker and home computers and reinforce her icewall and antivirus, whatever that entailed. Kim was a bit busy with court activities and festivities to be bothered.  
  
Senior Year went on. Kim was a little shocked when Bonnie drove up in her inestimably white new Mercedes Endz, and the redhead wondered how she or her parents were making the payments. Then, she got her own car, the Sloth, and was much less concerned by some common convertible when she could fly to Paris after school, air traffic permitting.   
  
Graduation was incredibly trying, as was the summer following. Many of the schools she’d wanted to attend suddenly were not holding fall semesters; too busy rebuilding their campuses after the invasion by Warmonga and Worhoq. This left Kim with nothing to do. Finally, after months of boredom, she settled on picking up some courses at Upperton U. One of them was Modern Lit. Where she introduced to some relatively new books, including the hot innovative philosophy title, _“The Unknown Warrior.”_    
  
Kim found herself kicked out of class for a week. Her outburst would have been understandable, if anyone believed that she had actually written the series of Warrior Poet’s tomes compiled in the paperback with a picture of some generic man, face hidden in shadow, bedecked in medieval armor upon the cover.  
  
“Anonymous my butt!” Kim bellowed as she stormed into her family’s rebuilt house, tossing her bag on the couch and ranting into the air. “Wade?!”  
  
On command, the holographic projection of the boy appeared in front of the bigscreen. His slightly greenish hologram was a request by Kim. He was perfectly capable of projecting the normal, real-looking holo-Wade, but Kim was not comfortable with such a real looking projection simply appearing in dad’s living room.  
  
“What is it Kim?”  
  
“This book!” Kim threw it at the hologram. It passed through him and bounced off the TV, landing on the new carpet.   
  
Wade’s projection didn’t move, used as he was to Kim’s occasional tantrums, but the camera mounted on the TV, part of a gaming system retasked, focused in on it. “Unknown Warrior? Yeah, it’s that new warrior code book, I’ve got it on the shelf next to Sun Tzu and Gygax. What about it?”  
  
_“I Wrote It!”_ Kim wheeled on the hologram and screamed, hands turned to taloned claws in her agitation.  
  
“What?!” Wade’s shock matched Kim’s. The hologram reached to an unseen shelf, and in a moment, held a greenish copy of the book on the floor. “You wrote this, Kim?!”  
  
Growling, Kim raked her nails through her hair and across her scalp, glaring bitterly at Wade’s hologram. “Well, I wrote the poems. I don’t know who wrote all the footnotes and junk.”  
  
“But how? When? How did you get it published without me knowing?” Wade was flipping pages and not yet looking up.  
  
_“I DIDN’T!”_ She bellowed, throwing up her hands, “I wrote this junk when I was like… fifteen! It’s the usual crappy teenage angst crap!”  
  
Wade was about to correct her when she began ranting anew. “How did whoever did this, get this? Why did they publish it? Who wrote all this intellectual bullcrap?!”  
  
Wade’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the harsh language from his friend. After a minute, he nodded. “I’m on it KP.”  
  
This seemed to mollify Kim at least somewhat. She walked through holo-Wade and picked up the book, muttering as she again combed her fingers through her hair, “I still can’t believe I had to pay thirty-five dollars for my own poems.”  
  
“Jeeze Kim, you know I could have got you all of those books for free.” Wade frowned.  
  
“I’m not into illegal downloads, Wade.”  
  
“But paying 300% above market price for books is a better form of thievery?”   
  
Kim turned and arched a brow at Wade, “When did you get so philosophical?”  
  
The chubby boy chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m a hacker. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”  
  
“Hmmm, fine. Go do that voodoo you do so well, and get me Ron.”  
  
Wade’s form faded, replaced by a floating, old fashioned console phone with a rotary dial. Wade seemed to be going through a retro phase with the paper books and the skeuomorphic designs. After a moment, it shook as if ringing, and finally was replaced by holographic Ron. He was shirtless, and yawning. Kim blushed a bit.   
  
“Uuuurgh, what’s up KP?” he yawned.   
  
Kim kicked herself, forgetting the fourteen hour time difference between Middelton and Yamanouchi. “Uh, sorry Ron, I was so wound up I forgot about the hours.”  
  
“KO, KP, you know the Ron man always makes time for his main girl!” he chided her and chuckled.   
  
Kim colored and shook her head. Finally she looked up, “Ron, what do you know about a book, ‘The Unknown Warrior’?”  
  
A groan was her first response. Finally, after a long moment, “Man, Yori is making me read it in Japanese… do you know how hard that is?”  
  
Kim tilted her head, and tried not to succumb yet again to her anger about the book, “It’s in Japanese?”  
  
“Dude, I offered to read it in Spanish, but Yori said no way, I needed to read it in the warrior’s language.”  
  
Kim rolled her eyes at Ron’s Japanese task master and tried not to chuckle audibly. After a moment, she recalled _why_ she was asking. “How long has it been out?”  
  
“Um… Iunno KP, let me look.” Ron, like Wade before him, reached outside the field of the hologram, and pulled in a book.   
  
Kim could make out the cover, this time a samurai instead of a European knight, and with Kanji instead of English letters; but clearly the same overall motif and publisher. She rolled her eyes and growled.   
  
“Oooooohkay… it says… Copyright two zero zero seven, second edition two zero zero eight. Japan… eh, well there you go Kim, it says it’s from 2007, and the Japanese edition came out this year. So it’s like, probably a year old and stuff.” Ron tossed it out of the hologram’s field, shrugging.  
  
Kim scowled, trying to think backwards. “A year… a year… I wrote that stuff longer ago than that… and it would have taken-,”  
  
“Goodness! Kimmie, I’m sorry!”  
  
Wheeling around, Kim found her mother coming in, followed by her father. She blinked, wondering why her mother was blushing, and why her dad’s face was turning a different kind of red.   
  
Then she turned around, and realized that Ron was basically in his underwear in a life size hologram in the living room. He waved innocently enough, but it dawned on Kim what her parents thought they had walked in on.  
  
“No! nononon! No need to be sorry, mom, Ron was just filling me in on something I had a question on!” she waved her hands frantically, and moved in front of the projected image of her boyfriend.  
  
“It wouldn’t happen to be event horizon thermodynamics, would it Ronald?” Mister Doctor Possible glared daggers over his daughter’s shoulder.   
  
“Event hori-,” Ron scratched his head. “You mean like a bla… No! No black holes!”  
  
“Daddy!” Kim groused, tugging her hair, “Seriously! I had to ask Ron something about a book, I forgot he would be in bed, since it’s after midnight in Japan!”  
  
In the glow of the hologram, Ron was pulling on his gi, backwards of course, and also trying to explain. “Really Mr. Dr. P! She just wanted to ask me about the sword of the warrior!”  
  
“I’ll bet she did.” He frowned, eyes narrowed.  
  
Misses Doctor Possible, however intervened as she picked up Kim’s discarded book from the floor and noted her backpack also on the couch. “Dear. I think Kimmie just got home. Isn’t that right Ron?”  
  
Ron nodded emphatically. A moment later the speakers rang out with a feminine voice, “Ron-kohai, what is the noise in your sleeping room? Oh, you are on the holocron. Is it an emergency? I may return later if need be.”  
  
“Yori-sempai!” Ron cheered as his savior arrived off-holo, “Please, come and say hey to Kim and her parents! _Please_!?”  
  
Kim felt a chuckle threaten at Ron’s panicked antics, but it quickly died away when Yori came into the holo’s view. She was dressed in some kind of Japanese kimono thing, but it was fairly loosely tied. It showed off her body in a way that awoke something primal and territorial in the back of Kim’s mind. Especially when she stood so close to mostly-naked Ron to fit in the hologram’s view.  
  
“Moshi moshi, Kimberly-san, Possible-sama, and Misses Possible-sama.” She bowed slightly.  
  
Mr. Dr. P blushed and coughed into the back of his hand at the view that bow gave of a twenty year old female ninja, and Kim thought she heard him mumble that it really must be night time in Japan. She also heard her mother tisk at him.  
  
Deciding this was more than she could process at the moment, the redhead decided to cut things short. “I’m sorry for waking you Ron… Yori-dono. Thanks for your help.”  
  
She gave a perfunctory bow and clapped her hands twice, closing the communication with the signal.   
  
“Kimmie? Who was that girl? And why was she in Ron’s dorm where she could hear him?” Anne seemed to have some unconscious urge to feed Kim’s insecurities.  
  
“Uh… Student Advisor. Coed dorm. You know how loud Ron can talk.” Kim supplied the cover as rapidly as she could. “Probably woke them all up through those paper walls. That’s with all the sempai and kohai stuff.”  
  
“I wish my advisors had looked like that,” Mr. Dr. P stroked his chin thoughtfully.  
  
Anne dutifully elbowed her husband. “So, Kimmie, can we ask what was so important that you needed to tune in Tokyo?”  
  
After a bit of prodding, hemming, and hawing, Kim divulged the existence of “her” book. Both parents, being published researchers, were of course livid that their daughter had been plagiarized, particularly in an educational text.   
  
It wasn’t until much later that night, as Kim lay in bed, puzzling, that she looked at her desk and had a breakthrough.   
  
“Wade!” She called out.   
  
Once again the microphones built into the new Possible house picked up her command and contacted the techy. “yeaggggh, what’s up Kim?”  
  
“Were you… asleep?”  
  
“Well I _am_ human.”  
  
“No you’re not, your chocolate pudding n a person shaped container,” Kim smirked and shook her head. “Look, do you remember that virus that the old locker computer caught last year?”  
  
“Do I?” Wade scowled “I never did figure out the source. It was some kind of distributed mesh network, zombie computers feeding on other zombie computers, total brain nosh.”  
  
“Um… okay, eww.” She shook her head and shivered at the imagery. “So, no idea who did the deed?”  
  
“Nor where it went… and I couldn’t get any info out of the publishers.” Wade sighed and shook his head, “I even… called them.”  
  
Kim boggled at this bit of personal touch for the normally skittish hacker, and then sighed. “Great. So someone stole my crappy poems, stuck a bunch of psychobabble on them, and made a crapload of money.”  
  
“That’s what it looks like. Fortunately, I’ve got the hard drive from your old PC, so I can probably prove you’re the originating author in court.” Wade’s head on her desktop screen nodded.  
  
Kim nodded absently; she wasn’t interested in bringing lawyers into this. She knew, even at 19, that that would take years. She preferred the direct approach.  
  
“So, who do we know who likes to re-,”  
  
“Sorry Kim, got an emergency call coming in.” Wade interrupted.  
  
A moment later, Doctor Director’s head appeared on screen. “Kimberly, Sorry to wake you, but I’ve just received some actionable intelligence.”  
  
“It’s okay Doctor Director, I was already up.” She shot Wade a look as he hovered in a corner of the screen, and smiled her usual winning smile, “What’s the sitch?”  
  
“Drakken. We haven’t heard much from him since the special Nobel ceremony, but I’ve received word he’s come into possession of more of that weaponized fertilizer of his. I don’t think anyone wants him getting back into supervillainy, and I was hoping…”  
  
“No problem, I’m on it.” She smiled, happy for the distraction after a week of mostly down-time.   
  
A few hours later found Kim crawling down familiar ventilation ducts. She was surprised to hear Drakken puttering around, but not yet ranting.  
  
“Oh well… I _am_ kind of early this time. No threat issued or anything.” She muttered to herself as she slipped out of the vent and onto the over-arching catwalk above the lab.  
  
This threw off her timing a bit, as usually she waited for an opportune moment to toss off a one liner and completely derail Drakken’s rant. Finally, she just decided to shoot from the hip.  
  
She vaulted the rail, tucked and rolled her landing, and came up right at the feet of Shego’s lounge chair, putting up her fists.  
  
Only to find the villainess nose-deep in a copy of _The Unknown Warrior_ , sunglasses perched forgotten on her forehead and sunlamp not even turned on.  
  
“I don’t freaking believe it! You’ll read anything, won’t you?” she groused, raking a gloved hand through her hair.  
  
Shego blinked, looking up, and genuinely surprised. “Princess? When did you get here? Why are you here?”  
  
After a moment, she looked over to the giant green tanks Drakken’s petals were sticking out around, “Hey, Drew, you forget to tell someone your weaponized goat pellets are legal now?!”  
  
“Shego, I keep telling you! It’s-,” Drakken appeared miffed as he peered around the tube and then blinked, “It’s Kim Possible!”  
  
Shego snorted, setting her book aside and rolling her eyes, “Let me guess, Interpol?”  
  
“Global Justice actually,” Kim growled, her fists tightening in her leather gloves. “Legal?”  
  
“In Ethiopia anyway… you might imagine they’d be interested in rice grains as big as baseballs that can grow in the desert.”  
  
Kim nodded, chewing her lip. After a long moment, Shego caught the direction of her glare.  
  
“How can you read that… that… idiotic drabble?”  
  
“Drabble?” Shego looked at the glossy black cover of the book, and then back up, “I’ll admit the conclusions the editor draws are a little droll, but really, the passages just leap off the page.”  
  
“Oh please, they’re complete crud! The whining of someone who just wanted to piss and moan!”  
  
“Piss and moan?” a delicately maintained brow arched upwards, “The Forbidden Dance of Combat is pissing and moaning?”  
  
Shego quickly paged back and began to narrate, “Society says that sex is the most intimate two human beings can be with each other. The truth is, it’s a close second. Anyone with working organs can do that, can even make a baby if they do it right, or wrong. But when you’re moving against a target, it’s different. It takes skill, expertise, and timing. One missed punch, one kick a second to soon, one blaster pistol missed in a sweep, and it ends before it’s begun.”  
  
“Oh please,” Kim snorted, “Any idiot could string that together, it sounds like something out of Bricks of Fury.”  
  
“Maybe… but the next bit is what really gets me. It’s like I’ve lived it myself.” Shego eyed Kim, wondering at her venom. She resumed her narration a moment later, “In an age when life can be ended by a drunk driver, or an unsophisticated brute with a blaster; capture and termination exist around every corner of life. But the moments when you feel truly alive are just as you face death. Arms entwined with a foe, fingers grasping for the throat, the heart, the hand trying to do the same to you, each of you heaving for breath, fighting to break free and escape with your life intact-,”  
  
“And then, you look into their eyes and see the fear, the animal lust for just that next breath and nothing more than that. In that moment either of you may escape or fall, and nothing is more pure than that perfect, basic struggle.” Kim finished, her eyes unfocused.  
  
After a moment, she shook her head, and growled at herself. “Fech, stupid mod lit class.”  
  
But when she looked up, Shego was standing before her. Before Kim could react, the taller woman had thrust the book into her chest, spine pressing between her breasts as the mercenary tapped it against her.  
  
“You act like you hate this book, but you just quoted it verbatim.” The green woman smirked, eyeing her prey, “So spill, little miss bipolar.”  
  
Kim’s mouth opened several time to try to formulate a response, until finally she hung her head. “It’s mine.”  
  
“Yours?” she cocked her head to one side, eyes narrowed.  
  
“I wrote most of that stuff when I was a freshman. Heck, I wrote The Forbidden Dance of Combat the night you and I fought at the North Pole. Sitting in front of that trash-can fireplace.”  
  
The realization smacked right between the eyes. She remembered that day, so close to Kim, breathing so hard in the cold, wind rushing by as they sparred between jetboards. The first time she had actually tried to end it quickly, to rip the redhead’s throat out so she could find Drakken. She had thought nothing of it at the time. It was just her life. But knowing her nemesis had drawn such power out of just a few seconds exchanging blows…  
  
“Um… okay.” She swallowed, suddenly feeling deeply vulnerable for no reason she could put her finger on. “So why do you hate it so much? It’s all brilliant stuff.”  
  
“Because someone stole it from me.” Kim’s eyes suddenly flashed and she snatched the paperback from Shego’s grasp, gesticulating with it in the air. “They downloaded all my rotten poems and teen angst off my computer, psychoanalyzed it, and printed it off!”  
  
“Stole?”  
  
“Yes, downloaded off my computer, along with my homework.”  
  
“Sucky deal. This shit is selling like gold… it’s top ten in Nile dot net’s nonfiction list. Your turbonerd hasn’t tracked them down yet?”   
  
“No. He said some junk about distributed nets and zombies. I think he was asleep.”  
  
“Hmmmm…” Shego pursed her lips, looking again at the book in Kim’s crumpling grasp, “Tell you what Princess. I’ll make you a deal…”  
  
“What kind of deal…?” Kim arched a claret brow and eyed her rival.   
  
“I’ll get you your royalties and the ass of whoever stole it.”  
  
“…and?”  
  
“And I’ll let you know what it will cost you once I do it.”  
  
“Yeah, right. Trust you?” Kim rolled her eyes, dismissing the idea out of hand, “As if.”  
  
“Don’t be so hasty Kimmie… we’re talking millions of dollars here, maybe even movie rights.” Shego cautioned, one wickedly manicured nail waggling in the air. “And don’t worry, I would never ask for anything illegal. I’m on parole you know… gotta keep my nose clean or I have to forfeit all my assets.”  
  
“Yeah, I suppose that’s right. Maybe I could donate the money to Rebuild Middleton.”  
  
“Or maybe you could just spend some on yourself for a change. I don’t give a shit. But let me do this…”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because, I had four brothers, and I know what it’s like to have your diary read. And leaked to the tabloids. Believe me, you got off easy. Electronique razzed on me getting my first period for _weeks_.”  
  
Kim shuddered at the thought of that and shook her head hard to clear the image. Finally, she acquiesced. “Alright, deal.  
  
“Good, now get out of here. I want to finish my book, your book. And Drew wants to feed the starving masses and round out his Nobel collection with Chemistry.”  
  
“Drew?” Kim inclined a brow, shooting a loaded look at the tubes Drakken was working on.  
  
“Part of Anger Management. I’m not supposed to dehumanize him or some crap like that.” She rolled her eyes, following the heroine’s glance.  
  
“Oh… and Shego… try um….. crud, what did I call it?” Kim took on a look of consternation, “Oh! Try ‘On Equal Footing’ It’s probably the only one in there that isn’t total trash.”  
  
“Whatever you say, Shakespeare.”  
  
It was a few weeks later when the doorbell at the Possible house rang. Kim opened the door to find Señorita Rockwaller and Junior standing there. Junior was, strangely, shaven headed, and Bonnie’s hair was shorn very short. Kim’s eyes instantly narrowed.  
  
“Still living at home, K?”  
  
“Still living in denial, B?”  
  
“De Nile? How quaint, Anthony and I were just there. I should have remembered to send you a post card but... Well, you know how it is…”  
  
“Yeah, you’re a complete bitch.”  
  
Bonnie’s jaw hit the stoop as she just stared at Kim. Junior seemed just as taken aback as he rubbed his bare head. Kim noticed a pattern of fine scratches on his hand. After a moment, she turned back to Bonnie.  
  
“Is there a point to this? I have homework and frankly, I’m waiting to hear from my lawyer about something,” the redhead glared at the both of them.   
  
“Um… you… d- don’t have to worry about… lawyers.” Bonnie’s venom suddenly dried up and she wrung her hands, looking around nervously.  
  
“What do you mean?” Kim’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.  
  
“You see Miss Possible,” came a silky older voice from further down the path, “It seems my son and my daughter-in-law have grievously wronged you.”  
  
“Señor Senior Sr.?” Kim blinked, a bit surprised and suddenly on guard.   
  
“No need to worry Miss Possible. It is against villainous tradition for me to attack you while I am here to apologize.” The old man nodded, leaning on his ornate cane in the autumn sunshine, “And I would be loath to destroy your family’s home so shortly after it’s been rebuilt.”  
  
“Wronged me?” Kim blinked, relaxing her stance slightly.  
  
“Yes… it would seem Bonita stole something of yours…. Something very personal, and then chose to turn a profit on it.” He nodded, shame and sadness in his watery blue eyes, “And my son, when he learned of this, was complicit in the scheme, using some of the money for himself. For which he will be severely punished. I must also apologize to your green friend for my treatment of her when she came to my island.”  
  
“Green friend?” the redhead was having difficulty keeping up now, and held up a hand, signaling she needed a minute. “Wait a second, you mean Shego?”  
  
“Yes… Shego was very cross,” Junior whined, “She destroyed all of my le’Goop, and then... then…”  
  
As he degenerated into tears, Senior Sr. continued, “And then the young woman burned his hair off when he was foolish enough to admit he had spent his ill-gotten gains on salón trips.”  
  
“And she ripped my hair out by the roots.” Bonnie gave a shifty-eyed whisper, as though admitting it would summon the demon again.  
  
“But why would Shego attack you three?”  
  
“Because of your poems.”  
  
“What?” Kim wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.  
  
“Because of your stupid book!” Bonnie barked, stamping her foot. She thrust out an ornate envelope made of artful paper, “Here!”  
  
“I trust that this is just compensation for your troubles, Miss Possible?” Senior inclined his head.  
  
Kim eyed the trio, and then opened the gilt-edged envelope she had been handed. She pulled out a water-marked, ornately engraved slip of paper, and the words and numbers on it made no sense to her at first. She had never seen that many zeroes and commas on a bearer bond. Nor the word million.  
  
Well, in point of fact, the closest Kim had ever come to a Bearer Bond was in watching Brick Hard with Ron, where in the villains tried to steal some of them. So receiving one for three million Euros had pretty much shorted her brain out.  
  
“I think we broke her.” Bonnie snarked, snapping her fingers in front of the redhead, “Hello… Earth to Possible! Is that enough? Are we even now?”  
  
“Yes! Please call off Shego! She scares me!” Junior whined, hiding behind his smaller wife.  
  
“ahbu.. bu… but this is so…”  
  
“So little?” Senior Sr. cocked an eyebrow, “I agree. However it is all that my children could scrape together on short notice. I will see to it that you receive the rest as soon as I liquidate more of their assets.”  
  
“M- moh- more?” Kim squeaked, feeling suddenly unsteady.   
  
“But of course, Miss Possible.” The old man nodded, confused by the heroine’s confusion, “The book my daughter-in-law stole from you has been reprinted three times, and in seven languages. Her initial advance was Fifty Thousand dollars. The second printing was optioned at One Million Dollars, and the third edition was done on a percentage. I thought your lawyer had explained this to you?”  
  
“Law… lawy… no… no lawyer.” Kim shook her head dumbly.   
  
“Yeah, we definitely broke the low rent. No wonder she goes to a division two school.” Bonnie snorted.   
  
She was about to snatch the bond back when Senior Sr. rapped her hand with the top of his cane. “I believe we are done here. “Miss Possible, your Abogado, your Lawyer, has the paperwork regarding the transfer of the royalties and the licensing rights with Studio Siete for the television series in España.”  
  
Nodding dumbly, Kim closed the door as their black helicopter spun up and took off. “…more…?”  
  
A series of very deep breaths and a call to her new layer later, the one she had contacted just hours earlier, before Bonnie and company showed up, confirmed that: one, she needed a new lawyer, because Dewey Cheetam and his partner Anne Howe didn’t know the first thing about international finance; and two, that she was worth somewhere north of five million dollars _after_ conversion rates and taxes were figured.   
  
What the heck was she going to do with that kind of money?!  
  
Well, she should really find a better editor for the fourth edition of the book, which was already in process.   
  
And there was the Rebuild Middleton fund.  
  
And she hadn’t seen Ron in two months…  
  
And unlike Ron, she’d never flown first class  
  
To Tokyo  
  
With new lingerie  
  
And a plane ticket for Yori to be anywhere else, with a very big, very heavy, very concealing new bathrobe.  
  
Kim looked at the bearer bond again, still dumbfounded. As she flipped it over, she saw that there was a sticky note on the back. It was mint green and the handwriting was a bit shakey, as though the author rarely used their hands to write.  
  
_“Kitten, Hope you like my handwork. I’ll get in touch with you about my price, but it does start with an ‘inspired by’ line in the next edition. After reading ‘On Equal Footing’ I think I deserve it.  
  
Yours, S.”_  
  
Well huh…

**Author's Note:**

> AN: So I’ve been on a deep dive into the archives of the KP Slash Haven lately, and dug this out… It’s from early 2011. Hope you enjoy! Reviews = Love and Resharing is Caring


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